


Haphazardous Façade

by Voyaelm



Series: Oumami AU [1]
Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Alternate Universe - Non-Despair (Dangan Ronpa), Closet Sex, Daddy Kink, Frottage, Grinding, Groping, HPA AU, M/M, that one’s pretty slight
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-24
Updated: 2019-05-24
Packaged: 2020-03-13 10:00:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18938659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Voyaelm/pseuds/Voyaelm
Summary: Amami locks eyes with Ouma before speaking softly. “You can have all the attention that you apparently ‘don’t want’ as long as you stay quiet. Got me?”—HPA/Non-Despair AU





	Haphazardous Façade

**Author's Note:**

> This was spawned from a dream and heavily edited up. This is also my first DR fic. Enjoy!

Ouma really doesn’t care what country he is in right now. He just knows that it’s somewhere in Europe, but he doesn’t bother to ask or even look for landmarks. And everyone around him speaks the same language, so it’s not at the front of his mind. He’ll have to have Amami remind him.

Ouma would _normally_ try to figure it out on his own, but he’s too bored to try hard at anything. He’s on a school trip, fully-funded, so everything is planned out. He can’t do anything out of the itinerary without it being scrutinized, and he’s done with the monotony. It’s so _dull._

He wants Amami to drag him along for sightseeing with Shinguji, even though he wouldn’t enjoy it. He wants the attention of the only person he cares about on this trip. At least he can admit that.

He’s been tired since the plane ride, and he hasn’t been able get any sleep. For one, It’s a brand new place; for two, he and Amami didn’t get to share a room. He had some tall kid from a few years down whom Ouma didn’t bother asking about his talent.

Other than that, it’s been nice. It’s a serene place; the only real sound that fills the hotel during the day is the ambient sound from the lower traffic.

But, right now, it’s loud because of the full dining hall that everyone on the trip is currently seated in. It’s a fancy hall, tall marble pillars and solid wood floor accentuating the aesthetic. _I bet Shinguji could tell me exactly what century this hotel is imitating._

Ouma brings his eyes back to the plate in front of him, before flicking them over to the men talking beside him. Amami’s sitting next to him — after _so much_ bitching and complaining on Ouma’s behalf — with Shinguji across the table. There are a few other people at their table, but none Ouma care about. And he only really cares about Shinguji because he’s Amami’s friend. 

He bobs his head around for a few seconds before letting it fall onto Amami’s shoulder. When Amami pays him no mind whatsoever, too enthralled with his conversation with the anthropologist in front of him; Ouma starts to push against his side. Amami huffs, wrapping his free arm around Ouma’s waist, still not removing himself from his chat.

 _Better than nothing._ Ouma thinks, going back to eating as well now that he has some of his boyfriend’s attention. The meat is tender, but the potatoes are hard and cold. He shoves a loaded fork in his mouth and chews. It doesn’t taste as good as his sweets, but it’s palatable.

Ouma doesn’t take long to finish eating, pushing his plate to the edge of the table to be collected after ten minutes. Not having something to do with his hands or mouth makes slightly Ouma anxious. He sits still, focusing hard on the solid weight of Amami’s arm on his back and side.

His fingers fidget on the edge of the wooden table before Amami reaches over to grip his hand. Ouma looks up, hoping to meet Amami’s soft green eyes; and it upsets him when he’s _still_ not giving his full attention.

But Ouma is nothing if not persistent. _I’ll get Amami to pay attention to me._

Ouma moves his hand out of Amami’s hold to quickly slip it under the table. He waits until Amami starts up a new part of his conversation before laying on the taller man’s thigh.

Amami doesn’t look down, but there is a squeeze to his waist that lets Ouma know his hand is felt.

His hand glides up to rest on the crotch of his pants. Amami pauses in his conversation for a second before continuing. Ouma smiles, happy he got Amami to drop his nonchalant attitude to Ouma’s advances even if it was short-lived.

He fingers the bulge in Amami’s jeans, rubbing his hand down the length. He isn’t hard, which Ouma kinda expected. But that’s something he can fix with a few more well-placed touches.

He squeezes at the fabric, and Amami kicks his leg up under the table. It doesn’t hit the underside, so there’s no noise. _Awww_ _I wanted Amami to embarrass himself_ _in front of everyone._

His hand stays there for a little while, fingers caressing until he feels Amami’s dick twitch against his palm. Ouma removes his hand after that, not without a parting grope. His hand peeks up between their plates and stays there.

Ouma distantly comprends that Shinguji has gotten up, probably to use the bathroom. But, now him and Amami are alone. Sorta. He can talk freely now. 

“Did you like that, Amami?” Ouma reaches back down, only to get his hand slapped away. He pulls it to his chest dejectedly.

“You’re so-” Amami doesn’t finish his statement because he doesn’t really have to. Ouma know what he wants to say. _You’re so distracting._ Never a tease, never sexy. Distracting. It’s one of Amami’s favorite words to describe him with.

“Was your conversation with him _that_ important?” Ouma tries to scoot away from Amami’s side, but Amami pulls him back. “Oh, _no._ Is Amami _mad_ at me? Is that why he’s being so aggressive?”

“I’m doing this because you _obviously_ want attention. So, I’ll give it to you.” Amami’s words are sweet, but his eyes are cold and stern. _He’s handsome when he’s worked up._

“You will? Yay!” Ouma hops up, excited by the consent. Reaching down, Ouma grabs Amami hand and pull him up from his chair. A few people turn their heads at the squeak of the chair but quickly turn back. Ouma shrugs. _They aren’t important._  

Coaxing Amami into leaving the hall is easier than Ouma thought it would be. Turns out Amami was telling the truth — how sweet.   

Amami gets dragged along by the hand while Ouma speaks excitedly to both himself and the other. They make it a few feet down a random hallway before Ouma asks, “How does a _sleepover_ sound, Amami?” His emphasis on the word ‘sleepover’ makes Ouma shudder. He hasn’t had a chance to do anything sexual with Amami for nearly a week now. He’s pent up, and masturbation can only do so much for a guy.

Amami stops dead in his tracks, not letting Ouma pull him along like a dog on a leash.

Ouma tugs harder on Amami’s hand, but he doesn’t budge. “You can stay in my room tonight!” His roommate, who he’s never talked to, would need to find somewhere else to sleep.

Amami doesn’t answer him or say anything. He keeps look down at Ouma in… some expression. _It’s hard to place. Frustration? Annoyance? Shut up and leave me alone? Probably that._  

He takes a confident step forward and steps on his toes to press a kiss soft to Amami’s collar bone.

In a way, Ouma’s trying to apologize for the attention-whoring, knowing that Amami isn’t fond of it. But, in the other way, he’s still being an attention whore because there is no way Amami doesn’t have every part of his body staring at Ouma.

He lays another kiss just above his shirt collar, then another on his neck, and another and another…

“Oum- hey! Ouma stop!” Amami’s demand does stop Ouma’s kisses, but it doesn’t move his head away from his collar.

“Aww. Why though? I’m having fun.” Ouma gives a parting kiss to his clavicle as he pulls away to look Amami in the eye with crossed arms — which is really hard to do to someone 9 inches taller than you. “You said you’d give me attention. This is the kind I want. 

Amami tosses his head to the side with a huff of laughter. Mocking laughter. “Of course that’s exactly what you want. Can’t say I’m surprised.”

“Oh, but that was actually a lie! I don’t want your attention at all, Amami-chaaaan~” Ouma sings, tossing his arms up behind his head. Staring up at the taller male, Ouma sees his face flip to annoyance. Amami reaches out for Ouma’s arm, taking it and tugging him along. Unlike Amami, Ouma actually yields because he doesn’t have much of a choice; Amami is so much stronger. 

Ouma’s vision spins and blurs as he is swung into a dark area. He opens his mouth to scream at the quick movement, but it’s covered by Amami’s hand before he can.

He looks around, trying to figure out where he is. What he can tell for certain is that it’s a storage closet. There are toiletries, towels, and laundry sitting on large, black shelves. There is also a window over his head, which is the only source of light at the moment. It illuminates Amami’s face nicely. Ouma stares as his face, commiting the light bouncing off his cheekbones and jaw to memory.

Amami locks eyes with Ouma before speaking softly. “You can have all the attention that you apparently ‘don’t want’ as long as you stay quiet. Got me?” Ouma raises an eyebrow but nods in agreement.

Amami moves his hand away and Ouma immediately starts talking. “You’re going to take me in a closet? Jeez, I thought I was worth more than that to you!” Tears start to fall down his cheeks. He brings a hand to wipe them away dramatically. “I thought you loved me!!” Ouma looks up at Amami just in time to see his face break into an expression of concern and love. Amami’s pretty face twisted like that makes Ouma’s insides twist too.

But, he’s lying. Whether it’s about the location or the love, he’s not too sure. It takes Amami a while to see his lies when he doesn’t outright state them, and now isn’t an exception. His eyebrows settle and his mouth turns back into a straight line.“You’re a brat.” He does smile when he says this, throwing Ouma off a bit. 

“What’s new?” Ouma tosses his arms up to Amami’s shoulders, tugging him down for a kiss. Amami rolls his eyes, but accepts the kiss. It’s soft which is odd compared to how they usually kiss — heavy-handed and hot. Weirded out by the sensation, Ouma tries to take control. He bites hard at Amami’s lip and slips his tongue when Amami opens his mouth.

Amami’s hands go in opposite directions, one caressing his chin, one wrapping around his middle. He squeezes Ouma’s waist and smiles when he moans into their kiss.

When he decides he’s done; Amami breaks their kiss, smiling down at the other.

“That felt nice, didn’t it?” Amami teases, fingers stuffing themselves into Ouma’s greedy mouth in lieu of his tongue. Ouma knows Amami well; he isn’t the ‘I’ll fuck you in a closet’ type. But, Amami is usually willing to give Ouma anything he wants; definitely more of a giver than a receiver. _Good thing I like receiving._

Amami lets Ouma slobber over his fingers for a little while before pulling them free. A small bit a drool runs down Ouma’s chin and Amami smiles in satisfaction. He’s already a mess and it hasn’t even been 5 minutes.

Judging by Amami’s actions, he doesn’t plan on putting his fingers to any use. He must have wanted to give Ouma to suck on, which was sweet of him. He loved having something in his mouth, be it risqué or mundane.

“Amami!” Ouma’s voice breaks when Amami leans down to slot his lips against his neck. His legs quiver, nearly giving out under Amami’s pressure. “You’re not playing fair.”

“Who said I had to? You weren’t playing fair at dinner.” Ouma turns his head to the side, refusing to meet Amami’s eyes. He remembers how he acted. He remembers his dirty comments, his attention-seeking, and his hand slowly gliding up to grope Amami through his pants. He remembers that _he_ was the one to bring Amami here. Well, not exactly _here_ but close enough.

He picks Ouma up, an easy task for someone with his strength — or Ouma’s lack of. Ouma’s arms immediately wrap around Amami’s shoulders like pythons, trying to support his own weight. His legs hook over Amami’s hips when Amami shoves him against the door.

“You’ll be quiet for me, won’t you, baby?”

Having Amami talk to him like that makes Ouma melt into the wooden door. It shreads Ouma’s usual crass and fickle personality and replaces it with one of pure obedience. Since Amami rarely plays into that particular kink — it doesn’t do much for him — Ouma would do _anything_ to get Amami to keep it up.

“Yes, daddy.” Amami smirks, shifting closer and pressing his hips against Ouma’s ass. He doesn’t offer any praise, but instead pulls Ouma into a kiss which he returns with vigor. _I love it when Amami kisses me._

Ouma’s body relaxes in Amami’s arms, all limbs pilant under his touch. His legs fall from Amami’s study hips to the ground, which leaves him with a jean-clad thigh between his. 

The position is off due to the height difference, but it still feels fine. Ouma rolls his hips down onto the tough denim, and he gasps. _That friction is heavenly. Holy shit._ He keeps moving his hips and letting his noises out freely. Ouma was never extremely loud, unless he was having actual, penetrative sex. Grinding could never make him scream and cry like he does when he’s getting fucked.

“Didn’t I tell you to be quiet?!” Amami chides, pinning Ouma’s shoulder to the door; anything above a whisper was apparently too loud. 

“Awwww. Worried about us getting caught?” 

“Aren’t you? We could get in so mu-” 

“Oh calm down! We’ll be fine.” Ouma waves a hand in the air nonchalantly; but he’s got a solid grip on his bottom lip with his teeth, like he’s trying not to start panting in excitement. 

“Oh I _forgot_ ,” Amami smirks, pressing himself into Ouma, which pushes him harder against the door, “You would like that. Being caught.” Amami doesn’t phrase it as a question, which sends a shock up Ouma’s spine. He can’t he confirm or deny his position before Amami starts up again. “We could pull anyone from the dining hall, anyone at all, and you wouldn’t care, would you?”

“Hah! No-nope.” Ouma shifts on Amami’s thigh. The tightness is getting to him. He wants nothing more than to unzip his slacks, push Amami to his knees, and cum on his pretty face. But, Amami isn’t going to let him no matter how much he begs. Not when he’s been a brat. So, he’ll play along for now. “As long as you’re there… I’ll take anyone you pick.”

“Oh, you’re letting me pick?” Ouma nods, squeezing the soft hair at the back of Amami’s neck.

“I should find someone to take care of your mouth, since you can’t seem to be quiet.”

“Ooooo, you’d let just _anyone_ fuck my mouth, daddy? You’re cruel.” Ouma smirks, rolling his hips down onto Amami’s thigh. He doesn’t actually care. It’s so satisfying to see a guy shake and moan when he has his mouth around him; it makes him feel powerful. 

“Mhmm.” Amami hums his ascent.“Maybe I should get a girl and have her sit on your face to shut you up. It’s not like you’d know what do anyways, so I don’t need to worry about attitude.” Ouma bites his lip harder, the skin around the pressure turning white. A small whine starts up before he tries to shove it down. He doesn’t think he’d like that type of humiliation, but there’s a first time for everything. 

“Amami,” Ouma moans, tossing his head back and forth. “Th-That’s so mean.” He’s losing himself a bit. Amami feels so good, so strong, so _comforting_. If it weren’t for the pressure between his legs, he’d be asleep by now.  

“Are you gonna cum?” Ouma pants, nodding his head into the door. Between Amami holding him up with nothing but his shoulders, thighs, and the door and the rough pressure pushing at his dick; he's in paradise. He even forgets that they are currently dry-humping in a storage closet of a foreign hotel — but only the last two bits; there was no way he could forget anything Amami does to him. His noises start to come back and so does Amami’s hand over his mouth. 

Ouma takes the opportunity to look Amami dead in the eyes as he lets out a cute, slutty moan under the palm. Not a fake one, but an exaggerated one. Amami moves his thigh faster, his other hand going to tangle in and pull Ouma’s hair. The moan he lets out this time is softer and definitely not faked.

Ouma’s hand darts up to grip Amami’s wrist and hold it to his mouth. His eyes roll back into his skull as another moans tickles Amami’s palm. _Hah. That’s amazing._  

Ouma knows this turns Amami on too, even if he’d never get him to admit that. Whenever Ouma asks about kinks, Amami diverts attention from himself and shoves it onto the other. His mouth may say one thing, but his body always says something different.

Ouma doesn’t like being shut up, but Amami loves shutting him up. So Ouma lets him; Amami is too picky for Ouma to complain. But he’s close so he’ll put up with it.

Suddenly, Ouma goes stiff under Amami, eyes squeezing shut in pleasure. Amami feels Ouma’s mouth open in a pant before he takes the pressure away, watching slyly as he gasps.

“Did you finish?” Ouma nods, head falling to Amami’s shoulder. He babbles noncoherently against the cotton fabric of Amami’s shirt, delirious from orgasm.

Amami bring his hands under Ouma’s butt for support before picking him off the ground and settling him on his chest. He turns and slides down the door, now propped up while a spent Ouma sits in his lap.

Ouma tilts his head back to rest on Amami’s shoulder while his hand reaches for his. Amami takes it, squeezes it, and rubs his thumb against Ouma’s. Amami’s other hand embraces his waist. “Was that good?”

“Mmmhmm. Very good.” Ouma’s being honest, so why is he shaking. Amami must notice as well because he tightens his hold on both Ouma’s waist and his hand. “So… My-my room, right?” Ouma shivers, body trying to calm down. Even with the blurriness from his recent orgasm, Ouma’s heart still twists. Again, Ouma _knows_ Amami likes focusing more on him, but it still leaves a bad taste in his mouth. He wants to make Amami happy.

“No.” Ouma looks up at Amami in question. His breath comes out a bit quicker, but no enough to be noticeable. “It’d be safer in mine. Kiyo wouldn’t mind as much as whoever you’re bunking with if he caught us.” Amami pulls a hand through Ouma’s hair. “And I’ve had enough ‘adventure today.” Ouma sighs in relief. _So there will be more after this, just nothing adventurous. Thank god._  

“Never thought I’d hear that from you, Taro.” Amami smiles. Ouma doesn’t use his given name —or the nickname — unless he’s teasing. Or really, really happy.

“Me either, Kichi.” Ouma pushes further into Amami’s arms. “Some days, you’re just too much for me.” He knows Amami isn’t lying; he was too much for _himself_ some days.

“Speaking of too much, I’m tired.” Ouma tilts his head back and presses his scalp to Amami’s throat. When Amami looks down, Ouma grins deviously. “But, of course that’s a lie! I could stay up all night!”

“Well then,” Amami smirks, deciding to play along with the obvious lie — it’s hard for Ouma to lie when his head is spinning. “Would the ‘fully-awake’ supreme leader like a piggyback ride to my room.”

“That sounds nice, but..” Ouma looks down at his slacks and presses a flat hand to the crotch. His face contorts in disgust and discomfort. He came in his pants and _really_ doesn’t want any pressure against it. “I think I’ll walk.” 

They both get up off the floor and spend a minute trying to make themselves presentable. Amami combs through his hair, fixing up the mess Ouma’s greedy fingers made of it; and Ouma pulls his jacket as far down his torso as he can, deeming it suitable when it makes it to his mid thigh. 

Amami peeks out the window and, seeing no one around, opens the door. He lets Ouma step out first, following closely behind. _If anyone asks, we were on a walk_. Ouma thinks, bringing his arm to link with Amami’s and smiling before they walk to his room.

 

* * *

 

A pair of golden eyes peek out the bathroom door, watching as the couple round a corner and disappear from sight. He leaves the safety of the door behind, walking the opposite way of them. _I’ll take a loop around, then go to Amami’s room. I want to hear more._ The boy smiles, tugging a dark hat down over equally dark hair. It isn’t long before he also disappears behind a wall.

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I was gonna add more chapters, but I kinda ran out of steam. If anyone has any suggestions, send em my way! I also take requests for fics!


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